Drudgery
by flibertygibbit
Summary: Can Sarah escape it? Another Labyrinth moment brought to you by ... (genre changed - didn't realise how funny my angst was!)


**Drudgery**

Can Sarah escape it?

Disclaimer: you all know the score.

"Life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans." – John Lennon

***

Sarah sat down at the kitchen table with her third cup of coffee for the morning. The washing machine was making that ominous thunking noise again, and she had five or six loads lurking in the laundry, and at least as much ironing. The dishes were piled as high as Everest and the kitchen floor felt like someone had brought in the contents of the sandpit and mixed it with a liberal amount of honey, even though she had washed it a couple of days ago. The baby was happily banging away on a toy xylophone, but the twins were being way too quiet for four-and-a-half year olds at home on a Saturday morning. She'd better check that out first.

Passing a number of up-ended pot plants in the living room, she followed a trail of dirt leading in the direction of their bedroom. Before she made it to there door there was a series of shrieks, such that could only be made by her eldest daughter. On the floor was Talia's collection of dolls, which Liam had neatly dismembered, and was now attempting to reassemble. He proudly held up a plastic torso with a leg jammed through its armhole. Sarah grabbed Talia before she tried to dismember her brother, and distracting them both with a cookie, persuaded them to go play outside. "Daddy will fix your dolls when he gets home," she promised her daughter.

Making it back to the kitchen, Sarah took a swig of her now cold coffee, grimacing at the bitterness. She knew exactly who would be mending the dolls, and probably after midnight. The only thing Josh would be doing this afternoon would be drinking beer and watching whatever game was on, if he came home at all, that was. He'd tried to sneak out early this morning with his golf clubs, but hadn't managed to escape her remonstrations. "But you know I have to schmooze the clients," he'd whined when she'd complained that he was leaving her with all the housework, yet again, and then tried to justify himself further with the claim that he'd been working till after eight for the past few weeks, and needed some time out.

"The only reason _I_ don't work until after eight is that someone has to pick up the kids from day care," Sarah countered. As for his clients, they were mostly family friends and college buddies, so she wasn't fooled for a minute.

She sighed, wondering what had happened to the boy she'd met in college, who'd been so crazy in love with her he'd gone to all her lectures, because he couldn't bear to be apart from her even for an hour. Well, okay maybe that was a bit obsessive, but wasn't there a happy medium between that and barely seeing him at all? Never mind that he hardly spent any time with the kids!

Vanessa, by this stage, had given up her musical practise for a quieter pursuit. The toddler, named after Josh's mother, not that she'd been totally mollified by the compliment, had managed to pull some books out of the bookcase and was busily colouring them in with her crayons. Sarah snatched her up and dumped her in the playpen, wrestling a book out of her fat little clutches. Vanessa wailed in a fair approximation of an air-raid siren – just what her headache needed. Placating her with some crayons and drawing paper, Sarah turned her attention to rescuing the book, and old one with a worn red cover. She fingered the ruined pages, glancing at the title, _Labyrinth_. It was beyond repair now, with half the pages torn and most of the remainder now coloured in Vanessa's favourite shade of orange.

Sarah shook her head as she dropped it in the trash. The washing machine ground to a clunking halt, and she could hear the two eldest children in the backyard, screaming like skewered goblins. She remembered at fifteen how alive she'd felt, how confident. She'd had a magical experience and was determined to learn from it. She'd bent over backwards to make peace with her stepmother, to be a good big sister to Toby, to make something of her life. So where had her life gone? She no longer felt enthusiastic and determined, simply exhausted. And she didn't know anymore where she was going. Life's twists and turns had finally boxed her in.

Pouring out the remains of her coffee, she carefully rinsed her mug and put it in the rack to drain. Sarah stared unseeing out of the kitchen window, her hands gripping the edge of the sink, knuckles whitening.

"The way forward is sometimes the way back."

Where had she heard that before? And how far back did she have to go?

That Saturday morning, to the suburban symphony of children, dogs and lawnmowers, Sarah said the right words for the second time in her life:

"I wish the goblins would come and take me away, right now."

There was a moment of dizzying blackness, and then a grey blur which gradually resolved itself into a room Sarah recognised as the main hall of the castle. The throne was empty, in fact, after an initial scurry of goblins, the whole room was deserted. Looking around, it was pretty much as she remembered it from her last, brief visit, although it seemed to her infinitely grubbier. There were cobwebs festooning the ceiling, junk swept into odd corners, and what furniture there was looked worn and dusty. Then there was a peculiar, musty, goblin kind of smell. She wrinkled her nose and turned slowly, letting out a small shriek of surprise. Behind her, twice as large as life, was the Goblin King.

"Well, well, well. Look what the goblins dragged in." Jareth looked at her with a peculiar smile. "What brings you here, Sarah?"

"Um … I …" Sarah suddenly realised how totally unprepared for this encounter she was. At their last meeting she'd had a purpose, and though afraid, her anger and determination had helped her confront him. Now she was, she supposed, a supplicant. She was courting his favour. And as she looked up into his mocking gaze she felt very afraid. She swallowed nervously.

"Let me guess," he said, suddenly from behind her. Sarah turned to see him lounging elegantly on his throne. Jareth conjured a crystal and peered into it.

"Mrs Sarah Leighton, late twenties, boring civil service job, three children under five, and a husband who's cheating on her with his secretary. Not a very imaginative story."

Okay, so a part of her had suspected Josh, but she just hadn't had the energy to confront him.

Jareth looked at her expectantly. "I'm waiting …"

Still Sarah seemed unable to find any words.

Jareth sighed, "You want me to reorder time for you? You can't run the Labyrinth from this end, you know. You should have wished away your children, or your husband, or maybe that secretary – she looks very fetching." He gave a feral smirk, and with a flick the crystal vanished. "Come now, Sarah, I can't believe you're lost for words. Not even an 'it's not fair'?" He affected a whiney falsetto.

"I'm not after fairness," she said, finally finding her voice.

"I suppose you just wanted me to rescue you from your humdrum existence," he sneered.

She flinched at his tone. "I wasn't expecting anything." Her voice was heavy with defeat.

Jareth was surprisingly disappointed. He had hoped for more of a challenge, he realised. Never mind, he still wasn't one to waste an opportunity. As it turned out, he needed her.

A couple of small goblins skittered across the room, stirring up the dust. Jareth frowned at them and they flung themselves behind Sarah, clutching at the legs of her jeans. She glanced down into their beseeching eyes and then stared resignedly at the Goblin King.

"Well, you're here to stay now, as no one is coming to rescue you" he smirked again. Mind you, you wont have time to sit around and ponder the disaster that was your life," he said, cruelly. "Everyone here works."

"I'm not afraid of work," she said stoutly. "What do I have to do?"

"You can start by keeping an eye on those two," he gestured to the little goblins, one of whom was trying to see how palatable denim was.

"Oh god," she thought with growing dread. "Didn't I just trade two of these in?"

"Apart from that," Jareth stood up, "the only other opening I have at the moment is that of Housekeeper."

Sarah's agonised cry echoed out across the Labyrinth.

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!"


End file.
